


Days Gone By

by ObjectPermanence



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, High School Reunion, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-08 18:06:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/764379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObjectPermanence/pseuds/ObjectPermanence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been 15 years since Enjolras graduated from Musain High School, after being the class president all four years. Courfeyrac convinces him to come to the reunion, despite his protests, to speak to the entire class. When he arrives the blonde is forced to confront something he's been hiding from for the last 15 years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Days Gone By

**Author's Note:**

> Italicized text takes place 15 years ago, during their senior year.

"I really hate you sometimes." Enjolras muttered, looking out the car window, watching the buildings race past them. He recognized the small shops that he and his friends had skipped class to go to so many years ago. 

Courfeyrac snorted, eyes fixed on the road. "You'll thank me later. It been, what, 5 years since you've seen Eponine? What about Lesgle? Two? Three?"

"Four." He answered bluntly, gritting his teeth instinctively as they passed the hospital, remembering the time Bossuet had crashed his bike in freshmen year, breaking both of his arms. "It's not my fault. They never tried contact me."

"And you never tried to contact them." His friend pointed out matter of factly. "You're not really the victim here, Enjolras. Sure, High School wasn't great. But you were the class president all four years, and managed to make honor roll every year. And now you're a fucking lawyer!"

The blonde didn't meet his gaze, instead focusing on the passing people walking on the street. "It's too hot here. Whose bright idea was it to have the reunion at the actual school? Hopefully the air conditioning works now." The school had been practically falling apart when they'd attended, and on this particular August afternoon and air conditioned building would have been a welcomed refuge.

"No idea, probably the same person who decided to build a school out here." It was a small country town, and everyone who grew up there hated it, always vowing to leave one day, hardly anyone ever did. Courfeyrac and Enjolras had gotten out, along with a few others. But the majority of their class mates had stayed, taking up their father's hay farming business or getting a teenager pregnant and ending up in the county jail. That was just how things worked there, and Enjolras had hated how the entire town was in a stage of constant rest, never moving forward. There were two large stores, one public pool where they had spent many summer days, and a movie theater where he had worked briefly. Other than that, it was mostly just hay fields with the occasional cow.

"Well, here we are." The other man announced, turning into the parking lot. The High School was the biggest building for miles around, with an astounding two stories, 20 class rooms and a track outside. Every room was painted an odd off-white with blue carpets and trim in the corners. The lunch room doubled as an auditorium where Enjolras was supposed to give his speech. He'd been the class president every year, and the school board had specifically asked him to talk at the reunion, thus giving Courfeyrac ammunition to guilt him into going. 

Enjolras sighed, getting out of the car and stretching his legs. "Shit, never thought I'd be back." He breathed in the fresh air with the distinctive scent of soil into his lungs. Glancing around he spotted a dent in one of the bumpers where Joly had dropped his math textbook in senior year in an attempt to crush a spider. Chuckling, the blonde wandered towards the brick wall next to the entrance. Spray painted on the back in dark red were the words, Liberté, égalité, fraternité. Courfeyrac had done that on the first day of senior year to get a rise out of Enjolras.

"Me neither." Courfeyrac agreed, walking up behind him and smiling at his handiwork. "Hey, we should get inside." The wind was picking up, throwing dirt into the air as well as sending punches of hay whirling around them. Enjolras nodded in silent agreement, and followed the other man inside the building he'd promised himself that he'd never return to.

-ooo-

_Combeferre studied the bright yellow sheet of paper in front of him while contemplatively sipping his coffee. "Yeah, looks good Feuilly." He nodded, passing the boy's note sheet back as Courfeyrac plopped down in the seat next to him._

_"So Joly," He began, raising his eyebrows until they practically disappeared into his curly hair. "Are you and Bossuet planning to take this girl of your's to Prom next month?" The boy had been talking about the dance for the past month, considering his options and flaunting the number of girls who were pining after him in his friend’s faces. Courfeyrac really enjoyed teasing the others about potential dates, reveling in the blushes and indignant looks he received._

_"Yes, actually we were." Joly shot back, not removing his eyes from his slice of pizza, staring at it accusingly._

_Feuilly sighed, "Joly, the pizza does not have germs on it."_

_"How do you know that?" The hypochondriac demanded, crossing his arms dramatically as Enjolras approached the circular table they all sat at. He was carrying a salad in one hand, and an armload of books in the other, his wavy blonde hair falling into his face._

_"Enjolras, please tell Joly that there is no reason to be worried about germs on his pizza!" Feuilly threw his hands up in exasperation. "I can't deal with him anymore!"_

_"Then don't sit by him." The blonde responded simply, sitting down next to Combeferre and impaling some lettuce on his fork. When the orphan shot him an annoyed look Enjolras furrowed his brows together. "I really don't understand why that's a herd concept to grasp. Don't sit next to him, and he won't bother you."_

_Courfeyrac interrupted before the argument could continue, leaning on Enjolras's other shoulder, "So, fearless leader. Do you have any plans for the Prom? Perhaps deigning to escort a mere mortal to said dance?" He mocked Grantiare's constant comparison of Enjolras to Apollo, slurring his words slightly, making the entire table erupt in laughter, except for Combeferre who was studiously reading a copy of The Hunchback of Notre Dame._

_"No, I don't have time for distractions." Enjolras stated bluntly, shoveling more greens into his mouth, stating pointedly at the table._

_"Oh, but you must know that it would be an honor to be the chosen one of the great Apollo!" He persisted, placing a hand on the blonde's head, ruffling it a bit as he spoke. "Surely one amongst out humble student body is worthy of such attention. Are they not?"_

-ooo-

"So, here is the podium, where you'll give your speech." Valjean, the school principal of the school, gestured to the wooden obelisk on the stage of the cafetorium. "We're really glad that you decided to come all the way out to talk for the reunion, Enjolras. You know, you were one of the best class presidents this school has ever had!" He said happily, guiding Enjolras around the commons he knew so well, to a table in the back. "And here's your table, you being a guest of honor and all."

"Thanks." He managed weakly, trying not to glance at the back corner, setting his bag down on one of the chairs and scanning the room as his former classmates began to file in.

Valjean smiled, "Feel free to mingle, we start in an hour or so." He nodded, and paced off to meet some other students, a broad grin over his face.

Enjolras looked around once more, spotting Joly amongst the crowd that had just come in. He was unmistakable, the familiar slightly panicked look over his face and a bottle of purel visible in his back pocket. Courfeyrac was already talking to him, laughing and gesturing with his hands as he spoke. 

Smiling, Enjolras walked over with a smile, "Joly! How have you been?" He nodded towards the taller man, knowing that he hated to be touched.

"I've been really great! How about you? Couf tells me you're a lawyer now! Congrats!" He asked, the concern fading from his face, replaced with genuine happiness.

"Yeah, I've been good too. It's great to see you!" The blonde chuckled when a woman came up behind Joly, and wrapped an arm around his middle, making him squeak slightly. "I see you have a friend. Care to introduce us?"

Joly blushed slightly, recognizing the offender a moment later and wrapping her in a big hug. "Enjolras, this is Musichetta. Musichetta, this is Enjolras." The girl had long brown hair and big green eyes, which gleamed when she extended a hand. "We're sort of involved, with Bossuet too."

Enjolras shook her hand, dipping his head slightly, "She can't be the infamous Musichetta can she? The mysterious girl that both you and Bossuet took to Prom all those years ago?"

"Indeed she is!" A familiar voice sounded from Enjolras's left. Turning, he was met with the familiar sight of Bossuet, minus all of his hair.

"Bossuet!" He said happily, enveloping the shorter man in a hug, before gesturing to his head. "You've changed I see."

He ran a hand over his bald head, smiling a bit, "I always did have the worst luck. It started two years ago."

"Damn, that must have been a bitch." Courfeyrac said, clapping Bossuet on the back with a cheeky grin.

-ooo-

_"Oh my god. Enjolras's please tell me that you're planning on getting a restraining order filed against Courfeyrac. Because he looks about ready to rape you." Bahorel joked, taking his usual seat on the other side of Feuilly, laughing at the blonde's discomfort. "Unless you want it. Then I suggest you get a room." He snorted, taking a bit of his sandwich._

_"I can assure you, I have better things to do than sodomy." Enjolras, shoving Courfeyrac off of him and opening one of his books up, not meeting any of the other boy's gazes. "So, does anyone need help with math, because I have the next 10 minutes free for tutoring."_

_"I think Grantiare might need some tutoring, it you know what I mean." Courfeyrac wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as the dark haired boy approached the table, water bottle, that was definitely not filled with water, in hand. "Speak of the devil" He breathed, sitting back down in his seat, watching as the cynic flopped down next to Combeferre._

_"Math notes?" He muttered, looking at Feuilly who surrendered the yellow piece of paper a moment later with a sad smile. Everyone knew that Grantaire didn't have any interest in school, and only showed up because of Enjolras, even if the blonde himself didn't know it. The cynic was always watching from the corner of the cafetorium when Enjolras spoke during assemblies, a sort of wonder in his eyes as he stared at the boy speaking._

_"Hey guys." Eponine wandered over, a moment after Grantaire took the notes and began copying them into his notebook. "Anything new?"_

_"Not, much. I heard you and Montparnasse are going to Prom." Joly said, worry evident in his tone. It was common knowledge that Eponine and Montparnasse had been in an on-off relationship for the past three years. Each breakup was usually preceded by him getting drunk and slapping her around a bit too hard._

_Eponine sipped her smoothie quietly, "Yes, he asked me."_

_"Did you say yes?" Combeferre asked quickly, looking up from his book._

_"Yes, he's my boyfriend. Why wouldn't I?"_

_Grantiare shrugged, "Because he's an abusive douche bag." His eyes were downcast, occasionally flicking over to study Enjolras reading and occasionally eating a bit of salad._

_"So Grantaire, any plans for Prom?" Courfeyrac asked mischievously, walking over and placing his hands on the cynic's shoulders, his entire body visibly tensing._

 -ooo-

"Enjolras!"

"Combeferre!" The blonde turned around and embraced the bespectacled man in a warm hug, a smile spreading over his lips. "How have you been?"

"I'm great! I'm an intern at the White House now! And what about you?" 

Enjolras grinned, placing an arm over his friend's shoulder, "That's amazing Ferre. I'm a lawyer now, I've got my own firm in Seattle. I represented Bill Gates in that big case against Disney last year."

"Really? Enj, that's awesome!" Combeferre beamed as they milled around the room, reuniting with old friends. They spoke enthustically, catching up with each other as quickly as possible. Neither was married, or in any sort of serious relationship, but Combeferre dismissed his availability, stating that he was sure that would change eventually. Whereas Enjolras had no plans to ever settle down, preferring to stay single and focus on his career.

"Hey is that..." Enjolras trailed off when he recognized the woman with long dark hair on the other side of the room, staring at her feet.

"Yeah, it is." Combeferre, walked towards her, "Ep? It that you?" She turned around at his voice, green eyes just as vivid as he remembered. "Eponine!" He embraced her, careful not to crush her in his arms. 

"Combeferre!" She laughed as he picked her up and spun her in the air. "How did you spot me?"

He snorted, setting her back down, "Like I wouldn't recognize you!" He brushed a piece of hair out of he face, "You haven't aged a day." She swatted his hand away with a sly smile.

"Please sir, I am a married woman." She flashed the simple wedding band on her finger, laughing at Combeferre's surprise.

"Who's the lucky man?" A twinge of jealously detectable in his tone.

"Eponine." A gruff voice came from behind Combeferre. Turning around he recognized Montparnasse, his hair still dark and greasy like in High School.

"I have to go." She said, ducking her head and walking to stand next to her husband. "See you later." She whispered, following him to meet up with his old friends, her shoulders visibly tensing when he placed a hand on them.

-ooo-

_The lunch table was almost completely deserted a few minutes before the bell rang. Only Enjolras, Combeferre, and Grantiare remained alone in the mostly empty commons. "Hey, can I talk to you?" Grantaire asked quietly, looking up at Enjolras. "It's kind of serious."_

_"Can it wait? I've got important things to do." Enjolras replied, continuing to speed read his copy of Toilers of The Sea._

_Grantiare flinched at his words, looking down at his water bottle, "Sure. See you around." He took a drink of what was clearly not water, based on the shudder that ran through him after he swallowed, and walked off down the hall to his art class._

_"You really should talk to him some time. That's the third time this week, Enjolras." Combeferre looked up from his book, locking a serious gaze on the blonde._

_"If it was serious he would tell me instead of just walking off."_

-ooo-

 "So, you're up in 10 minutes, Enjolras. Break a leg!" Valjean passed by the table Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Joly, Bossuet, Musichetta, and Enjolras were seated at. The blonde gave him a forced smile, shuffling his papers together, waiting to speak. A knot had formed in his stomach over the course of the evening. Bahorel and Feuilly weren't at the reunion, Bahorel had apparently been detained the week before for getting in a street fight, and Feuilly was trying to get his boyfriend out of jail. 

"Welcome back everyone!" Valjean started, jerking Enjolras back to reality as he started his speech, "It's great to see you all, I hope you've caught up with old friends and are having a good time." The crowd mumbled in response, a mixture of confirmations and disgruntled grunts. "So, first off, we're going to have Enjolras, your class president, give a speech."

"Go Enjolras!" Courfeyrac yelled, his hands cupped around his mouth. "Wooooooh!"

"Lets all give him a hand!" Valjean gestured to the ASB President as he stood and walked up to the podium, speech in hand.

"So, it's great to see all of you guys again!" He began, glancing around the room, studying the aged faces of his former classmates. "We've all changed, gotten older, wiser. But we're all still class mates. We walked these halls, went to class together, and we'll always be connected through that experience. Staying up until 2am trying to finish math homework, or staying late for baseball practice, we've all had the High School experience. The only deviation from the average experience being that we had ours at Musain High School." He smiled, spotting his friends in the corner. "We're all MHS graduates, our colors are red and black. And we are Larks!" The crown cheered as he continued, recalling funny stories that students had sent him, and teachers that were class favorites. Remembering the time there was a fire scare, but it turned out to just be steam from the boy’s locker room. He made the group feel united by their shared experiences at the school, making them more than a bunch of strangers, but returning them to the classmates there used to be.

Only once he was reaching the end of his speech did Enjolras allow himself to look at the faces in the crowd, recognizing old classmates and friends he'd long forgotten. Just when he reached the last sentence did he look at the corner he hadn't dared to so much as glance at all evening, knowing full well what he might or might not see, "We aren't just people, not just classmates, we are..." He trailed off, his eyes connecting with the blue ones he knew all to well. The dark curls he'd recognize anywhere. The horrible posture in the chair in the back corner where he always sat throughout the entire four years of High School. "...connected." Enjolras finished the speech, the last word barley a whisper.


End file.
